Sporkespondence

Richard Siken from Spork sent me a very insightful letter regarding my poems. It's rare that an editor will spend enough time to tell me exactly what works and what doesn't, but Richard obviously spent a good deal of time on mine. He was very honest. He told me what I do well, what he thinks I need to develop, and what I am no good at. My response:

Richard,

First off: The Monster Hour, Where I Go at Night, and What Everybody Started Wearing are yours for Spork and I’ve included them here, in their final (Spork-current) incarnations.

Secondly, thank you for your honesty. Your commentary has made it difficult for me to get to sleep lately. It is rare that I get the chance to read such insightful feedback, or any kind of feedback. I write my poems, and I am their only evaluator, more or less. I think many of them suffer for that (and I think a few of them are better off perhaps). But your words have come at exactly the right moment. I’m going through some difficult times, poetry-wise. As the editor of Octopus, I’ve been reading some gorgeous poems that come in that are nothing like my own. In fact, there’s a lot of stuff I love so much that doesn’t share the least bit of commonality with my poems. As you know, I’ve been tinkering and experimenting, in order to write better poems. Those experiments are the ones you said “don’t do much at all”. And they don’t. I can see that now—I just needed someone to say it I think. I let my wife, Allison, read your letter last night and she said something that really hit me. She said I should quit trying to make my poems different and like other poems that I admire so much, and start focusing on what I already do well and develop that, make that great. That goes along with your comment about me choosing to scribble, or choosing to be something real, somebody people may flock to. Your letter has begun to, and will as time goes on, really shake things up for me. I have a new perspective. I’m beginning to really love the poems that I naturally do well. I want to make them better. My manuscript, The Man Suit, is going to get some closer attention now and go through a few changes. I hope presses like it enough as is now since it is being read at many places, and are willing to accept some changes upon publication, if it ever comes to that (let’s hope). The Man Suit has no line breaks, but I will be looking closely at props and little words. There are a lot of props, but I know some of them are important. They’re not just desperate spice, but embed themselves in the twist and turns of the quick plot, while others are there just to be there. Those will get some attention.

I’m glad you like The Monster Hour. I’ve written it very recently and it is one of my favorites. I’ve tried to force it into the line-breaky mix of the new poems I’ve been writing, but you’ve helped me realize that it really belongs in The Man Suit. I really enjoy how the character doing the killing and the lying is the one we give our sympathies. He is a monster and we are forced to take him at face value. We can’t expect anything more. We know he is misunderstood and it becomes the producers we don’t trust. A lot of poems in that manuscript play the same way. I’ll stick it in there fo sho.

Thanks for your kind words about Telephones II. No one has ever told me before that my words/ideas have become a part of their vocabulary. That gave me some confidence to do and develop what I already do well. I want to commit to that now.

Anyway, you are appreciated and this will not be forgotten. Thank you.

Let me have a little time to re-evaluate some stuff before sending more. I’ll try to hurry. When will you need more by? Will this be for the same issue?

Sincerely,

Zach